NUMBER FIVE
by burnouts
Summary: "Deep in the cell of my heart / I will feel so glad to go." -Asleep, The Smiths. LucyLouis. Cousincest. Contains triggers for suicide and mentions of suicide. Harsh language. One-Shot, for Louise.


prompts: veins, broken nails, & beautiful mess  
**dedicated to louise**

* * *

_sing me to sleep  
i'm tired and i want to go to bed  
sing me to sleep and then leave me alone_

she always swore she'd never be another tragedy left for the world to deal with, but then again, lucy weasley was damn good at breaking promises, especially ones she made to herself, now wasn't she?

* * *

"this is the last time," she mutters against his chapped lips, and in the dim light of the room, with her able to catch glimpses of the stars out the window of his tiny one-bedroom flat if she angles her head just to the right a little more, she swears this time she means it.

"of course, sweetheart." his voice is rough and there's mint, liquor and cigarette smoke on his breath and she thinks she shouldn't find the scent of his _breath _sexy but she does, oh fuck she does. everything about him is sexy, from his laugh (deep, hearty, and veryvery rare) to the way his hands run over every curve of her body, fitting in every single crevice like she was made for him (what a sick twist that would be).

he doesn't believe her, and really, she can't blame him because she doesn't quite believe herself either.

* * *

so here's the long list of reasons for why she cannot be with him (even though she is with him anyway):

ONE - he's her cousinTWO - they're relatedTHREE - incest FOUR - the family would never approveFOUR AND A HALF - they'd both get disownedFIVE -

lucy stares blankly at the parchment, trying desperately to think of a number five.

she can't.

* * *

so here's the thing - lucy is sad.

her mum says she's depressed, her dad says she's crazy. molly doesn't say anything - molly's dead. the rest of the family doesn't know (except louis) because she keeps them at arms length. no one can get close to lucy, no one can get to know her, no one can see her. she doesn't like being seen because being seen is a scary thing. having someone out there who knows you, who knows all of you, your fatal flaws, your deepest secrets and largest regrets and the biggest mistakes you've ever made - that's scary shit right there (or maybe lucy's just a coward).

but anyway, lucy is sad and she doesn't know how not to be, and sometimes it scares her because she doesn't want to slit her wrists like molly did. molly, who smiled everyday and laughed a lot and who's hair was always shiny and pretty, and who was just over-all very well put together.

molly: who had deep, dark secrets and kept her sadness hidden behind fake smiles and even faker laughs. molly was her sister, molly was the only one who understood her. molly was gone, and that makes lucy so sad, more than anything else does.

lucy doesn't want to die, but lucy doesn't want to live either.

"i miss you," she whispers, her cheek pressed against the cool grass, tears leaking out of her eyes and onto her nose and neck, causing her slight discomfort, but she pays that no mind because there are worse things in the word than bothersome tears that make your neck uncomfortably damp, and lucy knows this all too well.

and then, as snow starts falling, lucy sits up and wipes away invisible dust from the headstone, her eyes lingering on the letters engraved into the grey polished stone.

HERE LIES MOLLY WEASLEY, BELOVED DAUGHTER, FRIEND, AND SISTER

JULY 17, 2005 - AUGUST 1, 2022

_"THERE IS A BETTER WORLD"_

lyrics to her favourite song, a 'the smiths' song that lucy doesn't know all that well. she ponders briefly on the words, wondering if that's true. is there really a better world? a lot could be better than this place, but a lot could also be worse. a lot worse, and lucy's learned to be happy with what you've got because sometimes you lose it.

she wishes she hadn't lost molly, and then she turns and walks towards louis' flat.

* * *

he has half of her clothes off before she can even get inside the door, and her fingers work nimbly at unbuttoning his shirt, desperately seeking the definition of the muscles on his chest. she needs a distraction after where she just came from, and he's a perfectly sexy one.

"you're upset," he comments, his lips trailing over her neck, leaving hickies she'll have hell trying to use spells to cover up later. concealing charms were never her forte. but lucy doesn't think about the trouble she'll have with some charms, because her mind goes immediately to HE NOTICED. HE ACTUALLY NOTICED.

and then she tells that part of her brain to shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down, because we are not crossing that line. sex between cousins is one thing, but love between cousins, love between lucy and _anybody? _hell no, no thanks.

those are the boundaries she's set up for herself, the number one rule in the list of rules she's made for herself: NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

falling in love fucks you up - it did with her mum, it did with rose, it did with roxanne, and it did with molly.

"i am," she says, and then she tilts his head up and presses her open mouth against his open mouth, and all talk is left forgotten in the past, just the way she likes it.

* * *

good things always go bad, that's what dominique always says around her clove cigarettes. lucy thinks she's probably right, and lucy also thinks maybe one day she'll try one of those cigarettes. after all, dom always offers her one when they see each other, but for some reason, even though lucy always wants to say yes, she always says no.

maybe that's because she knows molly would disapprove?

but then she remembers molly is dead. molly left her.

"give me a damn fag," she demands of dominique before the girl can even get properly into the door. dom arches an eyebrow but complies.

"what's got your panties in a twist?" she questions as she moves inside of lucy's small, but artsy studio flat. she was lucky enough to find a cheap one in muggle london near the cinema she works at (what a great career, don't you think? because her parents sure as hell don't).

lucy opens her mouth and just for a brief moment considers telling her - "_oh, you know, the usual. i'm in love with your brother. he's a bastard who only wants in (and who always gets in) my pants" - _after all, dom is the person she's always been closest to (aside from molly, rest in fucking peace), being in the same year and house (slytherin) when they were both at hogwarts last year, but just as she opens her mouth, her throat seems to close up and she forgets the words she wanted to say, and it's like a wake up call.

don't let anyone in, she tells herself everyday.

so she doesn't.

"PMS," lucy explains and then swiftly changes the subject.

she loves dom, she really does, but people are meant to be kept at an arms length in lucy's world.

* * *

two major things happen a week later.

one: her father tells her she's a fuck up and that she should be dead, and not molly (okay, maybe not in that exact wording, but that's the general conclusion she got from all his screaming). and she doesn't really know why he was screaming in the first place - _"what did i do this time?" "*more screaming*" "kay, cool. i'ma make myself a sandwich and maybe go say hello to mum." "*more screaming*"_

okay, so maybe she does know why he's screaming at her like that: the pregnancy test she stupidly left in their bathroom rubbish bin.

the second thing?

"surprise! i'm knocked the fuck up."

"how very eloquent, baby cuz."

"i try, allie-gator."

"don't fucking call me that!"

"allie-gator, allie-gator, allie-gator!"

"shut up!"

"you can't hit me! i'm pregnant!" lucy laughs in albus' angry face, but out of the corner of her eye she can see louis' eyes on her. he's the father and they both know it. lucy gets through the day with light-hearted laughter and thick language and a talk with dominique about "latex and paychecks."

* * *

and then it all goes bad.

"it's mine?" he doesn't look at her - won't look at her. the smile she was wearing earlier is wiped off, replaced by a blank look. of course it's his, who the hell else's would it be? can't he see, there is no one else - not for her.

louis is all she sees and FUCK she hates it. she wants to scream curse words off of very tall buildings. she wants to both fuck his face up and fuck him, and she wonders how it's possible that she's so entirely pissed off by him, but so utterly enthralled with him.

"yes."

"no." she blinks. what? before she can speak, he's turning to look at her, and she can tell he's pissed. "no. it is not mine. it cannot be mine, do you understand me?"

"yes."

louis laughs humourously and lucy vaguely wonders how someone can become so bitter in twenty short years of life. and then he looks at her, really looks at her. his eyes hold so many deep, dark secrets, and she can feel herself becoming trapped in them. and then -

"she was too, you know."

"what?" lucy is caught off guard. who was what?

"molly. she was pregnant." and somehow, lucy knows what he's going to say before he says it.

"it was yours." "it was mine." at the same time.

and then she's throwing herself on him, screaming, crying, maybe calling molly's name, maybe telling him what a bastard he is, maybe just plain desperately screaming because, shiiiiiiit. shit, shit, shit, shit. "NO, NO, NO. YOU FUCKING BASTARD, NO. DAMMIT, LOUIS. NO."

and every single one of her nails are broken by the time the rest of the family has flooded outside, her father and uncle george pulling her off of louis. her veins tangle around her heart and her lungs, and she can't breathe, she really can't, and everything comes crashing down on her. every emotion she's pushed away, every word she's bitten her tongue before she could speak, every thought she's never finished, all of it.

and it all comes down to this - lucy is a mess. not a beautiful one, just a plain one.

and her father was right.

* * *

"i'd be a bad mum, you see, christopher." she whispers to her stomach, her unborn child who she's convinced is a boy, "but you'd love me anyway, wouldn't you? and i'd love you too, more than anyone and anything in the entire world. i wouldn't raise you perfect, but i'd raise you right. i'd love you, completely, fully, utterly, and i'd never hold back in showing it, and that is how you care for someone, christopher.

you never hold back."

* * *

she gives birth to christopher, and just as he's taking his first gasp of air into this world, she thinks of number five.

* * *

FIVE - the dead can't be in relationships of any nature.

and then she gracefully dives head first off the roof of the hospital, and her form is perfect, but the only problem is the water she's diving into isn't there at all, and in fact she's diving head first into a busy street. not that it matters.

she'll be dead before she hits the ground, thanks to the nurse's cart in the hallway outside of her room (which is now empty thanks to lucy, _oops_).

* * *

because she wasn't meant for life and life wasn't meant for her, much like _lucyandlouis._

_don't try to wake me in the morning  
cause i will be gone_


End file.
